Golden Death
by Hillside Dancing On
Summary: There are so many "enemies" on Zelda. Ever wondered what life's like for them? Here's the POV of one. Set in Zelda: The Wind Waker. NOT HAPPY!


Note: Ahoyhoy! I've been reading too many of Farla's pokemon POV angst stories. I just got this idea from playing ZWW and thinking "hey, the enemies don't usually attack unless you bug them. I bet they have feelings and lives. Hey, I'm hungry, I'm gonna go have a sandwich." So, um.......enjoy!  
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My name is Raysun. It doesn't sound original to you, but to our culture it's a good name.  
  
I'm not that old. I can never remember a time when we didn't flee for our lives. As soon as I could fly, I was flying for survival. Never for fun. Our conversations were mostly about one thing.  
  
"How much longer until they find us?"  
  
"Skyfire swears she saw something moving in the distance, fast."  
  
"One of them got my grandma last year."  
  
Soon I realized WHO was after us.   
  
The ritos, for instance. They are birds just like us! I would never suspect they'd be our enemies. We used to live all over their island. Now only a few live on the highest peaks.  
  
Why do they hunt us? For our tail feathers! For fashion!   
  
But lately, our enemy has been the human in green. He's working with the ritos. I know he is. He wants to collect our tail feathers and sell them to the ritos, who prize them.   
  
It wouldn't be so bad if we would shed our feathers. But the only way to get a kangaroc's plumage is if the kangaroc dies. Then the feather will fall as it's owner's spirit flies off.  
  
We hate the human in green.  
  
And the seagulls. They are just as bad. They are cowardly little birds who we can crush with a few good pecks. They are scared of everything. The giant squids, the high winds, and us. So they fly near the human boats and hope for protection. In return, they'll fly into danger for the human. They're cowards, those seagulls.  
  
Right now, this island is our safe haven. We flew a long way from the abandoned lookout post were the things-they were like humans but pink, and had fangs and tails-gave us food and safety. But they were killed. Everything gets killed in the great sea if it's inconvenient to humans. At the southern lookout tower, my father lost his life.  
  
This island is small. It is a circle of land around water. Out of the water grows a huge rock tower like those near the ritos. The females make nests on it. I'm old enough to be one of the lookouts.  
  
The night is calm. Soon the females will wake. Then they'll hunt for fish, crabs, and small animals. It's hard to juggle food, lookout duties, and chick care. I don't have a mate or a chick yet, so I don't know myself. But I can tell from watching.   
  
Then the wind changes.  
  
A cold blast of salty air coming from the North hits me. I look out across the horizon and see a small red dot. The dot is coming closer and closer, riding the winds it controls. The seagulls swoop idiotically on the breeze and caw.  
  
The other males and I answer with alarm calls. The females crouch down onto the nests and hide. Whoever has lookout duty has to fight off the danger. That means us.  
  
He's here!!  
  
The human in green has seen us! He takes his place and whips out a strange tool that shoots death.   
  
I jump off the rocks and fly above him. He starts shooting wildly, his sticks of death just missing some of us. He wants our tails. He's chased us all the way across the sea just for our tails.  
  
I glance behind at my plumage, reflecting the moonlight and tinting it gold. This tail seems like a ribbon that's tied to the human. No matter were we go, our tails will pull him straight to us.  
  
But one arrow doesn't miss. It hits Goldsun in the neck and he falls. The next instant my brother is hit in the heart. Both hit the water with a smack, their tails away floating like golden funeral boats.  
  
It's too much. I screech and dive, talons ready to gouge the human's own heart out. But I got too close. I feel the arrow burn into my chest. I feel my body jolt with the shock and pain. But it was a bad shot. Even as my vision fades, I turn and weakly flap away from the island.  
  
I know what I want.  
  
I may be dead, but the human will never get this feather that has brought on my own doom. My curse.   
  
I let the darkness claim me, and I'm glad. Below me I see my tail feather floating in the ocean spray. I fly high above the sea and over the clouds. Away to join my father, my brother, my sister, Goldsun and my other friends that have been taken.  
  
And for the first time in my life, I'm flying because I like to.  
  
THE END 


End file.
